


Desperate Measures

by agent85



Series: 52 Stories in 52 Weeks [28]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post 4x06, The Darkhold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: "I understand that you are in possession of a book," she says.This is what makes May look up at her. Jemma avoids her gaze like she would twist out of the path of a firing squad."It's dangerous."Jemma swallows. "I know."[Spoilers for 4x06]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to week thirty of my [52 short stories in 52 weeks challenge](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/52)! This week's prompt: a story about a magical object.

_Hey, Jemma. You haven't answered my texts, so . . . anyway. Just, call me back. Thanks. Um. Love you._

* * *

If they notice that she's gone back to sneakers and sweatpants, they don't say anything. They don't say much, anyway; they just give her a wide berth and sympathetic looks. She wishes they couldn't see her at all. Doesn't seem fair that she got left behind to deal with them.

They all make their pilgrimage to her and Fitz's bunk. She dreads the visits, but she knows they'll come back if she sends them away. She sits through Daisy's stories of their time on the Bus and Mack's talk of a better place, but May just gives a solemn nod and walks away. She's still not sure what to do about it.

She's not sure about anything, really. She doesn't want to be here, in this room, in this bed that still smells of him. But where else does she want to be? Her dad would put a blanket around her shoulders and hand her the tea her mum made, but she doesn't want that. She wants Fitz back.

And really, there's more of him here than anywhere else. There's nothing at the power plant where he vanished. There's not even that much of him left at the bunk that is still technically his. It's all here.

She doesn't believe in séances or spirits, but she almost wonders if it's worth a try. There should be enough to pull him back to this place.

* * *

_Hey, Jemma. I know we didn't have much time to talk about . . . about the results of your test. And it seems that the director is on his way here, so . . . are you alright? I know you said you don't have to take tests anymore, but I guess I don't really know what that means. Just . . . give me a call, okay? Love you._

* * *

It's ridiculous. She _knows_ it's ridiculous. It's like she can feel every previous version of herself—before SHIELD, in the Academy, even on that planet—rolling their eyes at what she has become. Jemma Simmons doesn't believe in ghosts, or search the internet for mediums. She's not even sure why she's doing it. Maybe she's starting to abandon the logic that betrayed her.

But if Fitz really is gone, does she really have anything left to lose?

It's funny, though, because she was once separated from him for so long that she actually got used to missing him. It was like the dehydration and malnutrition—lacking something so crucial for so long that the loss became a part of her. She forgot that she used to be more and do more, until she was only a shriveled husk of a person, beyond hope of health or happiness, only continuing because the need to exist was written into every cell in her body. But he was safe before. She always took comfort in that, in knowing that the planet could only kill half of her. As long as Fitz breathed, she would be immortal. If he's gone, then she is only herself. She hasn't felt this small in a long time. 

* * *

_Hey, Jemma. The director is here right now, and he's making a mess of things, as usual. Right now it's looking like I won't make it to dinner tonight. I'm . . . I'm really sorry. But maybe we could Skype or something? Call me back. Love you._

* * *

She finds herself standing before May, not really sure how she got there. It's a relief, though, to be next to someone and not feel a need to make eye contact. She's seen her own reflection enough already. 

"Agent Simmons, is there something I can help you with?"

The tone of voice is more violent than if May had simply pushed her away, and Jemma is almost impressed. 

"I understand that you are in possession of a book," she says.

This is what makes May look up at her. Jemma avoids her gaze like she would twist out of the path of a firing squad.

"It's dangerous."

Jemma swallows. "I know."

"It started all of this."

"May, I can't think of any other way to save them. Can you?"

"And if the book can't help you save them?"

She closes her eyes and takes a breath, hoping the oxygen will flood her veins and give her strength.

"Then at least we'll know that we exhausted every possible option."

May is so silent that Jemma can only think of the ICER bullets she once found in the Bus lab doors. If May tried to shoot Fitz to stop him from endangering the team, what would May do to a lovesick fool like her?

In the end, May simply walks away, and when Jemma stands there in confusion, May looks over her shoulder.

"Coming?"

* * *

_Jemma, I called Nathanson and Burrows. No one knows where you are. Are you okay? Were there . . . were there consequences? I'm . . . I mean I know that we still need to . . . but you'd call me back if you could, right? Just . . . just let me know if you're okay, and we can work out the rest later. I love you, Jemma. I just . . . I need to hear your voice._

* * *

May's expression is unreadable, but she's lead Jemma to what seems like the corner of the Playground SHIELD forgot.

"You'll ignore anything in here that's not going to help you save them," she says, pulling the book out from under a sheet. She hesitates before she hands it to Jemma, one eyebrow underscoring that that the statement is also a question.

"Of course. I'll ignore anything that's not relevant to the mission."

May pulls the book back, examining its spine. "There's a lot of knowledge in here. Lots of dead bodies in its wake, too."

Jemma knows exactly what May means, and she shakes her head to show her revulsion. "I just want to help them. That's all I've ever wanted."

This seems to be enough, because May puts the book in her hands and fold her arms expectantly.

"Well?"

Jemma gulps when she opens the book, half expecting some black fog to come from the pages. Fitz had only vaguely referenced the danger the book posed, but she's done enough of her own research to be properly terrified. What would Radcliffe do with the secrets contained in these pages? She hopes she'll never find out.

When the writing appears, she's amazed. It's written the same way she would have written it, with metric units mixed in at all the right places. Does the book read her mind? Does it know what she wants?

She flips through the pages and tries not to notice the impossible things this book can show her how to do. In another life, she'd be tempted to pore over every page, but she's lost the one thing she really needs in this life, and she won't be without him a second longer than she has to. 

* * *

_Fitz? Fitz, where are you? I would have picked up. I would have told you. I_ wanted _to tell you, but they sent me off on some mission, and I wasn't allowed to take my phone. Fitz, if there's any chance you'll get this, I just want you to know that . . . Fitz, I miss you. If you're out there to find, I'll find you, okay? Just like you found me. I don't . . . I've been in a world without you, Fitz; I won't do that again. You have to come back to me._

* * *

This place is a little less terrifying when she knows that May's behind her. The agents who swept this place for clues didn't dare to touch anything, so the experiment is just as they left it. Jemma has read the instructions so many times that she's sure she'll recite them in her dreams. This has to work, because she has no idea what she'll do if it doesn't.

May follows Jemma's instructions with precision, and Jemma has a weird flashback to the time she dragged Fitz to see _Wicked_. She has no idea what she's doing, either. What if she tears a hole in the fabric of space-time? What if she causes irreparable damage to the universe as she knows it?

And is it bad that there's only a small sliver of her that actually cares?

This is what a mad scientist really is, only she doesn't want power, or fame. Burying herself in his arms would be enough.

To do what she needs to do, she basically has to reverse the entire experiment, which is tough, because Eli Morrow is long gone. It's only by reading the book that she's come to understand how dangerous he is now. If she could get him in the chamber and find a way to suck all the energy that was dumped into him, she'd have all three of them back already. As it stands, she'll have to make do with what she's got. 

If she hadn't left him, she'd never be able to save him. That is, if she'd never gone to Hydra, she never would have stolen their data, the team never would have found out where Garret hid his cache of goods stolen from the Fridge, SHIELD never would have been able to retrieve them, and she wouldn't be holding the plasma particle beam in her hands. Will the tesseract power it contains be enough to bring Fitz home? She hopes so. It's the most power she can pack into a chamber that size.

* * *

_I'm so tired, Fitz. I don't want to work, I don't want to eat—all I want is to talk to you. You're probably out there somewhere, wanting to talk to me, too. At least, I hope you are. I don't think I'll ever be the same until I see you again._

* * *

When it comes to the part where she actually has to start the experiment, she's trembling with fear. There are a thousand ways this could go wrong, no matter how careful she's been. She almost wants to scream. But she puts on her safety glasses, pushes the button, and runs. May closes the door behind her, and they brace for impact. The wave itself won't hurt them, but the force might knock them over. 

And then she and May are just looking at each other, and Jemma hopes that May will be the first to stand up. But they both know that Jemma needs to do this. She takes a breath, gets to her feet, and looks through the little window in the door.

"Jemma?"

That's when she screams.

She's only vaguely aware of throwing the door open and running into the room. All she can see is Fitz, Fitz, Fitz, who is whole and tangible and too far away from her. She doesn't realize she's crying until she crushes into him and feels something wet against his shirt. She holds him as tightly as she can, and when he puts his arms around her, she allows herself to break. Somehow, she can only do it properly when she is in his arms.

"May, good to see you."

She should probably care that there are now three people in this room who are not her or Fitz, one of whom she's never actually met. But she kisses him anyway, on every inch of skin her lips can reach. When she gets to his lips, she drinks him in, taking comfort in his confusion, because he must not have suffered much. He doesn't seem to mind the kiss at all.

When the kiss breaks, she leans her forehead against his and wishes she could always be that close to him. She finds an odd sort of pride in the way he struggles for breath.

"Jemma," he says, "did something happen?"

She hears May, Coulson, and Robbie Reyes walk to the other side of the room, but she kisses him again, still hungry for the taste of his lips.

"How was she," she hears Coulson ask.

"The same as you'd expect," says May.

"I had a feeling it was in our best interest to stick close to Fitz."

Somehow, she knows that May is smiling.

"Some people are just meant to be together."

They leave the room, and she'll never take this for granted again. Soon, she will tell him that SHIELD thinks he's dead, but for now, she will revel in the joy of being near him, of feeling his heartbeat, of seeing his smile. 

She doesn't believe in spirits, séances, or spells. She's not even sure if she believes in that book. But she does believe that she and Fitz are inevitable, and knowing that she's proved it once again is pure ecstasy.

And if she has it her way, she'll never let him out of her sight again.  

**Author's Note:**

> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


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